666
by Cherished Tenshi
Summary: Sazh, Fang thinks, is a funny old man.


**Disclaimer: **_I do not own Final Fantasy XIII in any way, shape, or form._

**Summary: **Sazh, Fang thinks, is a funny old man.

**A/N: **_All pairings in this story are strictly _**_platonic_**_, __save for Snow/Serah__. If you wish to intercept them as romantic, feel free, but I wrote them with platonic in mind._

Have another FFXIII story, for those few that aren't interested in Lightning/Hope or Fang/Lightning. Also, Sazh in general needs an awful lot more love, and people don't really write Fang with people other than Vanille or Lightning.

**Word Count: **2245 words.

* * *

Sazh, Fang thinks, is a funny little man.

Until they'd crash-landed onto Gran Pulse, she honestly hadn't paid that much attention to him. Sure, he was a cool guy – anyone who _willingly _kept a chocobo in his hair automatically qualified for the title – and his jokes made her grin once or twice, but he was nothing major. While Lightning was a bundle of sunshine and a boxer in training, and Snow was more stubborn than a Long Gui being coaxed into water with a vocabulary range of _'SERAHHHHHHHH_!', and Hope was the short feminine kid with a boomerang stuck up his trousers, (Vanille was in a whole different class altogether) Sazh was... was the guy with a baby chocobo in his afro.

That was it.

Oh, and he could fly a plane.

_And_ he had a kid of his own. Apparently, it was the same cute kid that she and Vanille had ran into at the Euride Gorge plant – the same kid that they'd branded by accident.

Still, she didn't see how it was their fault – first of all, how could _anything _be Vanille's fault? - since it wasn't like the kid had been the one to wake up in a foreign world with no memories and be faced with the possibility of being a doomed monster. What else were they meant to do? Wait until Vanille's brand ran out?

Yeah, right. Fang didn't feel like dragging a Cie'th around for all eternity.

Yet she still felt guilty over it.

_Damn_.

She was growing soft.

* * *

Oh, and he'd been a father to Vanille until Fang had tracked her down.

Funny how things changed once Vanille got involved.

* * *

Surprisingly enough, most nights on Gran Pulse, – on _home_, but oh how it's changed – Fang finds herself with Sazh, exchanging stories as the fire whimpers and roars and cries.

It's mainly because either Lightning or Snow storms off, and then the other follows, and Vanille's always been an intense lover of sleep, and Hope awkwardly tags along with Lightning and Snow most nights, and it's like a collection of People with Weather Conditions as Names, only Hope's not really a weather condition, it's an emotion that she's not been feeling a lot of lately, so it's a collection of People with Weather Conditions and Emotions as Names, or PWCEN.

...That's not really catchy.

For crying out loud, her name is _Fang_. It's a noun, but at least it sounds threatening. Hope sounds girly, and Snow is not a name that belongs to a seven foot mountain range of muscle.

But really? Fang is rambling in her head, and talking to oneself has never been taken as a good sign, not even in Oerba, back when it was alive with people and not dead with Cie'th.

They tend to play with cards when the night falls. Sazh had taught her and Hope a game called Eidolons; each card had a different score, and whatever you did, you didn't get to 666. If you did, the fal'Cie from Gran Pulse would attack you, brand you an l'Cie and enemy of Cocoon, then the game would be over.

Really. It just shows how terrified Cocoon is of a dead world.

Fang points this out to Sazh one evening, and he just chuckles darkly.

"Don't think it's dead, now that we're on it," he says, fingers unconsciously resting over his brand on his chest. Unlike the others, it's still nearly pitch-black. There's only a tiny bead of red breaking through the midnight dark. On the other hand, Snow's has nearly fully opened, but that guy is always a bit too emotional. "Unless you think that Pulse l'Cie are dead?"

"_Gran _Pulse," Fang corrects with a clunk of her tongue. She glances down to Vanille, runs a hand through her pigtails, sighing. "But, to Cocoon; does it matter if we're alive or not? Gran Pulse, Cocoon... to 'em, an l'Cie's an l'Cie. Just shoot 'em all down dead, and everything'll be sunshine."

He gestures to the burnt brand on her shoulder, hunching forward, cards shadowing his face. "So, what? You consider yourself an l'Cie?"

She barks out a laugh, shaking her head. "This thing? Nah. But if everyone else in the world does, what does my opinion matter? Nothin', that's what it matters to them. Monster's a monster."

"Target's a target," Sazh quietly mutters to himself. "Light used to always say that."

"And she doesn't now?"

He sighs. "The world isn't black and white. _Gran _Pulse ain't all bad. Cocoon ain't all good, either. Sure, you got the Sanctum, and most of them should rot in hell; but what about all of the people, huh?" He raises his hands up. Cocoon sits in the night sky behind him, mocking Gran Pulse, mocking them, mocking her. Fang wants to rip it right out of the sky and scream at every single damn person on it, for hurting all of them, for hurting _Vanille_, for hurting people like Hope, who'd never asked for any of this. "All of those innocent people, terrified of something that doesn't even exist."

"Why should I care?" Fang says firmly, ignoring the twisting in her chest. "They hate me and Vanille, so why should I give a damn 'bout what they want? Not like they care about what _we_ want, is it?"

"Those millions of people," Sazh argues. "See us as _monsters. _They don't know any better. We _can't _win. We leave the Sanctum alone, they're still scared. We take them down, they're terrified. They don't know that they're all animals being led to a slaughter!" Suddenly, he groans. "Damn it!"

She pokes his fingernail into his chest, in the middle of his brand. "Calm down," she says, smirking. "I'd _hate_ to lose an old guy, yeah? We need _some_ sense in the family."

Sazh lifts her finger, stares at it, drops it down with a sigh. "How could you have lived with this?"

"Told ya," she says simply, shrugging, her chest stinging again. "Can't remember."

* * *

Everyone's exhausted after a long day of fighting and completing a whole collection of Cie'th stones, and – surprise surprise – Lightning and Snow are arguing _again_, this time over where to stay for the night. Lightning says beside a lake, for resources. Snow says that Hope will fall in again.

And so it goes on.

And on.

And _on_.

Getting bored of the two shouting at each other, Fang makes her way over to where Vanille is. She and Hope are busy healing up a bloody Sazh; he did practically serve as bait for the last monsters to prey on, and oh _how_ they assaulted him.

She taps her friend on the shoulder. "Hey, Vanille. I've got a scrape on my arm. Could ya heal it up?"

"Sure!" She turns around with a warm smile and quickly heals the wound. Fang flashes her a grin in thanks before sitting down next to a grumbling Sazh. "Seen better days, old man?"

"I'm not _that _old," he protests. Chocobo falls out of his afro, waddling around, cooing, sounding confused.

"Oh, no!" Vanille gasps, her fingers tingeing with green sparkles. "Chocobo got hurt too!"

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Hope says, wrapping up a small bandage around Sazh's right arm, ignoring the man's winces. Already, blood is soaking through it, and wow, this is worse than Fang had thought. She knows the basics about healing – if you don't heal in time, magic and potions are useless – and it's obvious they got to Sazh too late, but _ouch_. She almost feels sorry for him. "Hey, Fang?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you ask Light or Snow if they've got any spare bandages?"

He obviously hasn't noticed that the two of them are _arguing_. They're like magnets; isolated at first, but always drawn to each other in the end, and they crush anyone who gets in the middle.

Lovely.

Well, okay. She doesn't actually _know_ how magnets work, but that's the general idea, right?

"They're fighting."

Hope lets out a small 'ooh' and asks no more, instead taking the blue bandanna from his neck and wrapping it over the strained bandage.

"Hey, hey," Sazh says softly. "No need to do that. Isn't that important?"

He stops for a second, bows his head and goes on, his fingers shaky as he tied it gently around Sazh. "M-my mom brought it for me," he whispers. "At Bodhum. But... she'd want me to help a person in need."

"Thanks."

Vanille suddenly sighs, looking over their heads. "They've found another Cie'th stone."

The whole group lets out a quiet groan.

"The next time they do that," Sazh declares. "I will slap them."

"You'll have to line up," Fang mutters. "They're gonna die before the brand even _gets _a chance to finish."

"I-I'll go and check on them," Hope immediately offers, already standing up. It's no secret that he wants to impress Lightning the Soldier, and, for whatever reason, Snow the Lovestruck Idiotic Hero, but each to their own, Fang thinks dryly as he runs off to join the two.

She waits quietly until Vanille finishes healing Sazh and tells him firmly to not get into anymore fights in the immediate future.

"It's Fang's turn to be the prey, anyway," she says, emerald eyes glittering with mischief. "So you just take a rest, okay?"

"L'Cie don't have time to rest," Sazh mumbles depressingly

"Oh, stop it!" She puts her hands on her hips, grinning. "You're turning more into Light by the day! And speaking of Light..." Vanille hovers her hands over her eyes, scanning the horizon. Fang follows her gaze, spotting a giant shadow the size of the nearby mountains towering over two tiny shadows and one slightly larger shadow.

Oh dear.

Fang winces as one of the small shadows goes flying from an angry wing. Most likely poor Hope. "I think they're in trouble, so I'll be off to help!"

Fang stands up, unhooking her spear from her back.

"_You _stay here with Sazh," Vanille says firmly, mouth drawn into a thin line. "Your turn to be bait, remember?"

So she _can't _fight? What? "But-"

"-He's an _old man_," she says lightly.

"Vanille," Fang begins. "We're over five hundred years old."

Her face falls at the reminder, but she quickly beams again. "Well, we spent most of that time sleeping!" She gives a small wave before running off. "_Ciao!_"

"Look at that girl go," Sazh whistles. "Got more energy than I ever had."

"You can't be feelin' _too _bad if you're eyeing up Vanille, can you?" Fang asks, leaning on her spear, checking the perimeter for enemies. There are a few, but she can easily wipe them out before they have a chance to blink. Nodding to herself, she rejoins the spear and sits down beside Sazh. For some reason, she pours a spare potion over Chocobo. It waltzes around at her a few times, cooing wildly, before flopping on the ground. "I know she's good-lookin' and all the rest, but isn't she a bit, I dunno, _old_, for you?"

Sazh splutters on oxygen. Snazzy. "W-_what_? Whoa, whoa, _whoa_. Vanille's like a daughter to me. We've stuck together since nearly the beginning, you know? Sure, we hit some rocky patches-" His eyes darken, before he shakes his head, sighing tiredly. "-But who doesn't? You can't change the past, so there's no point in hating her; hating _either _of you guys."

"For _what_?" Fang snaps, confused. What is he _talking _about?

"Dajh," he says simply, and she understands.

"Well, I'm not sorry," she states, ignoring his surprised look as he sits up straight, staring ahead at the lush green fields of Gran Pulse, of home. "It's not our fault we woke up in some freaky place, aight? Yeah, so we could have handled it better, but you said so yourself. Past's the past. No point regretting it. What matters is that you look to the future. You'll see Dajh again soon."

He chuckles a little, shifting closer to her. The sun's setting over them, and it's beautiful. Fang never gets used to it. "Yeah, you're right." He runs a hand through his hair then gently rubs Chocobo's stomach. "I'll see Dajh, yeah. I'm not going to give up now. We've all got someone to fight for, right? You and Vanille've got each other. Light and Snow have that Serah person. Hope's got his dad. I've got my son. We're all in this together."

Fang smacks the back of his head. "Oh _quit _getting all gushy and sentimental on me, old man. Do that when we're all old folks sitting 'round a fire."

He laughs again. "I _am _old." He taps his forehead, smiling slyly. "Think I've got a right to be letting this all out, don't you think?"

Loud shouts ring in the distance. Turning around, Fang can see Vanille sprinting towards them, laughing madly as Hope gives chase. Lightning and Snow are discussing something, but then Lightning lightly slaps his head and Snows laughs loudly, and Lightning's probably smiling a little. Things obviously went well for the collection of People with Weather Conditions and Emotions as Names and Vanille. PWCENV?

...Nah, that doesn't work either.

"C'mon," she says, standing up. "We've got one heck of a party to host." She holds out a hand to help him up. "Still got some life left?"

Sazh reaches up and grips it tightly, grinning. "Any time, old girl. Any time."


End file.
